Fiber Gourmet - Again

If I had any idea I was going to be discussing Fiber Gourmet so often, I would have given it its own label and watched as it rose to the top of the label cloud. I should have saved these things up and posted them all at once. But hindsight is always 20-20 and who could foretell the need to relate this odd little high fiber debacle.

I originally talked about Fiber Gourmet, a low calorie, high fiber pasta, here and then did a follow up post here, where I indicated I may have overcooked the pasta. You are now up to speed.

Let me start off by saying that I may be the world’s most inattentive cook. I do not lovingly nurture my meals, stirring, tasting and adjusting the heat and seasonings when necessary. I am far too antsy. Most days I try to cook things that require little if any attention while they are cooking – my three favorite methods, in no particular order, being:

1. Heap totally unrelated food items into the crockpot in the morning and don’t give it another thought all day;

2. Put everything in one 9 x 13 pan, top with cheese where appropriate, cover with foil, put it in the oven and don’t give it another thought for at least 30 minutes; and,

3. Put it in a large pot, cover with water, turn up the heat and don’t give it another thought for at least 20 minutes.

Sunday I was employing methods 2 and 3. I had a lovely beef, onion, mushroom, fat-free gravy concoction roasting slowly in a 9 x 13 pan - covered, natch.

After ignoring that for a good two hours, I decided to get started on some pasta and pulled out the Fiber Gourmet whole wheat fettucine.

Everyone knows you must first bring the water to a gentle, rolling boil, add the pasta and continue boiling for the time indicated on the package. If you bother to read such things. Waiting for water to boil is not something I like to waste my time doing, so I put cold water in the pot, threw in about 6 or 7 good handfuls of the fettucine, added a shot of olive oil, turned up the heat and walked away.

I could say that I walked away to do something productive, like folding laundry, feeding the dogs, unloading the dishwasher and cleaning the sink, but that would be a lie. I went to play on the internet. I know you understand.

I returned to the stove after about 20 minutes and the water was boiling like crazy, as expected. What wasn’t expected was that I didn’t see any pasta gently rolling around in there and the water looked a little murky. I gave it a stir and there seemed to be a whole lot less pasta in the pan than I remembered putting in.

Worrying that I hadn’t made enough, I pulled it off the stove, dumped it in the colander and - Voila! – disintegrated pasta. I kid you not – there was almost nothing left. And the two or three tablespoons of tiny pieces that remained didn’t look like they would hold up to the gravy.

As I stood over the sink, cursing inappropriately, Mr. Jelly Belly walked into the kitchen. I briefly explained what happened (minus the internet part) and told him to hold his horses while I threw a couple of baked potatoes in the microwave. I vowed to myself, yet again, to follow the dang directions in the future.

Later, as Mr. Jelly Belly was piling the lovely beef, onion, mushroom, fat-free gravy concoction onto his plate, he turned to me and said, “You know what would have gone really good with this?”

“No, what?”

“Noodles!” he cried, laughing so hysterically he could barely get it out.

Smart ass.